


Something Else

by somehowunbroken



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's not sure how he got here, but he's not complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Else

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merrov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrov/gifts).



There’s a distant part of Danny that wonders how he got here, to this exact point in space and time, and he thinks that somewhere along the way he must have won a favor from God, and this is his reward.

Danny had been watching the news, okay, the sports recap, he’d been waiting to hear the fate of the Knicks game, when Steve had decided that no, that wasn’t exciting enough or something. Steve had slid off the couch and settled himself between Danny’s legs, drawn down the zipper on his khakis, and started to run his fingers delicately up and down the length of Danny’s cock. His fingers were feather-light, teasing, nearly torturous, and Danny had bucked his hips up into the feeling almost unconsciously.

Steve’s moved on from that now, though, has replaced his fingers with his tongue, and Danny can’t help but feel like this, right here, this is the dirtiest thing they’ve done. It’s a ridiculous thought – with all the touching and fucking and tonguing they do to each other on a regular basis, this should hardly count, but as Danny stares down the length of his chest and watches Steve mouth his way up the tent in Danny’s boxers, it just sends this thrill through him, a curl of heat he can feel from his toes on up.

Danny opens his mouth to say something – encouragement, comment, anything – but ends up forgetting his words in a moan as Steve finds the tip of his cock through the cotton and sucks it into his mouth. The rough drag of the material combines with the heat of Steve’s mouth, and Danny presses his head into the back of the couch and arches his back, trying desperately not to pump his hips into Steve’s mouth. Steve makes this little noise, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, and Danny digs the tips of his fingers into his palms to keep himself still at the sensation.

“Fuck,” he manages to get out, and his voice sounds dizzy, far away and wrecked. Steve looks up, just the tip in his mouth still, and it’s – it’s something out of a porn flick, okay, that’s all Danny can think, the way Steve’s lips stand out against the light blue of his boxers, how Steve’s pupils are completely blown, how Steve’s cheeks hollow as he – “Fuck,” Danny repeats, and he can’t even come up with a word for how he sounds this time.

Steve’s fingers are back, dragging behind his balls, pressing and rubbing as he runs the flat of his tongue down Danny’s boxers. He catches the material in his teeth and tugs to the side a little until the very tip of Danny’s cock pokes out of the slit in the front of the material, and Steve makes a humming sound low in his throat as he makes his way back up. He draws the head of Danny’s cock into his mouth, closing his lips around the cotton but letting his tongue dance across Danny’s cock, and he presses with his fingers and sucks. Danny’s right on the edge, so close, and then Steve mouths the wet cotton back up over the tip of Danny’s cock and tongues a slow circle against the head, and that’s it, Danny’s done. He comes with a groan, a drawn-out sort of sound that might resemble Steve’s name, and he recognizes the tilt of Steve’s shoulders, the way he’s moving with his head bowed in Danny’s lap, and then Steve is breathing harshly against Danny’s thigh and shivering, shuddering out Danny’s name.

“Oh,” Danny says after a minute, realizing that the news program is still going in the background, that they’ve moved on to the weather, that he has no idea who won the game, that he really doesn’t care that much. He blinks at the television for a moment. “It’s going to rain tomorrow afternoon.”

Steve tilts his head up and there’s no name for the look on his face, somewhere between amazement and disbelief and affection, and then Steve’s just laughing, gentle and happy enough. “You’re something else, Danny.”

“Yeah, babe,” Danny replies, shifting to stretch out on the couch and patting the space beside him until Steve shimmies his way up. “Yeah, I really am.”


End file.
